


Shell

by Manuscriptor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brunnhilde and Hulk meet, Gen, Protective!Hulk, don't be mad at him, he's just doing his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuscriptor/pseuds/Manuscriptor
Summary: When Scrapper 142 finds Hulk in the trash heaps of Sakaar, it sparks an unlikely friendship.Hulk is just doing his best to protect Bruce.





	Shell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucky_as_lucky_can_be](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_as_lucky_can_be/gifts).



Bruce clawed to the top of the churning chaos in his mind, gasping for a breath he didn't really need. His chest was tight though, like a giant fist was squeezing, squeezing, squeezing and threatening to crack him open.

A green fist.

"The sun," he chanted to himself. "Sun. Going down. The sun!"

The mantra wasn't as good when he was just saying it to himself. It felt pointless and useless against the pressure building up in the back of his mind. It was like a headache but worse, because Bruce knew it wasn't a headache. It was something terrifying and horrible, and Bruce was more scared than usual because it slipped through his fingers and threatened to take over.

"No!" Bruce yelled, clawing at his wrists as the pain ripped down his arms, through his muscles, and in his veins.

"You promised!"

"Hulk has no promises!"

The voice that was not his own came from his mouth, the other side of himself roaring in anger at Bruce's attempts to keep it caged. The pain was no longer just in Bruce's head. It throbbed in his chest, right next to his heart. It made his knees weak and his ribs ache, and despite everything, Bruce still managed to keep one hand on the steering wheel in his mind.

"Hulk has nothing!" the Monster roared, and one meaty fist struck Bruce in the chest.

The blow knocked him back, sending him crashing into the pile of literal trash that the Quinjet had landed on top of. He felt several jagged pipes punch up through the muscle in his back, threatening to wreck his organs. He gurgled, blood rushing up his throat and pooling in his mouth. He coughed and briefly wondered if this was where everything ended. Alone. Lost. Someplace he didn't know. Fighting for control over his own damn body.

He should have known better.

With the pain tearing up his mind, he lost the little concentration that was keeping him at the surface. He felt his grip slip, and really, that was all it took.

"Hurts!" the Monster snarled.

Two large hands gripped Bruce's shoulders and pulled him off of the debris. He felt the hot blood and burning pain for an instant, his mind going white with the sensation.

And then he was being stitched back together, the organs repairing themselves, and the muscles knitting in that painful, familiar way. He would live, like always, but the sensation of it was always horrible.

Bruce gasped as he lost all control, and the Monster took over.

The feeling was different. Usually, it felt like he still had half his senses, everything dulled like he was viewing it through water, but it was always there. This time though was much, much different.

Everything was black.

Everything was quiet.

~*~

Hulk snarled as the last open wounds on his back closed up. He shrugged his shoulders and felt his way around the new flesh and muscles. His skin felt right and hot. He wanted to move and run and fight, but there was nothing around him and no one to fight.

Except himself.

He howled at the sky punched full of holes and struck himself in the chest.

It didn't feel like anything.

Hulk struck himself again. And then again and again and again. He moved from his chest to his head, hitting himself across the face when he felt the clawing, needling fingers of Banner inside. It was like itching right behind his eyes, but he could do nothing to scratch it.

"Stay, Banner!" he said. "No! Stay!"

His surroundings were strange. Hulk didn't know where he was. Not earth, something told him this wasn't earth. Banner had to stay inside. He couldn't come out. It was dangerous for a small man, not for Hulk.

He huffed in satisfaction when the scratching stopped.

"Good," he said.

The high pitched whine of an overworked engine caught his attention, making him turn.

The ship didn't look like anything he knew from earth. No sleek metals, not nice contained thrusters, not minimalistic windows. The thing was unwieldy and battered, cobbled together with screws and bolts and scraps of metal. Two wicked looking guns were somehow secured to either side, balancing out the wings that barely held the thing aloft.

Hulk growled at it as it spend towards him.

Did not like that.

Did not like that at all.

Hulk lunged with a snarl when it was close enough. His timing was off but he was generally close.

One wing crashed into his chest, nearly throwing him in his back. Hulk clung to the metal and managed to plant his feet. The momentum of the whole action forced him down into the trash, pushing him several feet before he got his footing.

He snarled at the challenge and gripped it tighter.

The whine of the engines grew more desperate and high pitched. They flared open and spat red hot fire, gunning themselves in an effort to push him over.

With a wrench and a heave, he spun it around and slammed it into the ground. The metal crunched in the most satisfying way, and Hulk grinned triumphantly as, with a broken wing, the ship spun out of control. It kicked up a storm of dust, unable to rise more than a few feet, and fluttering like a baby bird.

"Got you."

With a glut of black smoke and a final groan, the engines died completely, and the hunk of metal sank into the dirt and mud and garbage. The entire ship was smoking from the single blow Hulk had struck, and he straightened triumphantly, beating his chest with a howl of victory.

"What the hell?!"

The ship cracked open, the glass above the driver’s area opened. A fresh billow of smoke escaped up out into the air, and a stumbling figure escaped too, nearly tumbling down the side of the ship. They actually did. Halfway down the side of the wing, their foot caught on some stray piece of metal and they crashed down into the trash on the ground.

They popped up immediately, gesturing wildly back towards the smoking mess. 

“What the hell?! That was my ship!”

“Hulk smash ship!” Hulk said, thumping his chest once more. He bared his teeth at the stranger.

“You didn’t have to do that!” they yelled, stomping towards him. “You’ve ruined it! Now how am I supposed to get back to the city?”

Hulk drew back, a bit more ashamed now. The destruction was fun in the moment, but now with the smoke clouding the sky and the ship very much broken on the ground, it wasn’t as fun. Especially when the person was yelling at him. Her hair was wild and undone, framing her angry face with wildly black hair. It made her look scary.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled. “Ship scare Hulk.” The ship had scared _Bruce_. Hulk had felt the itch from inside his mind. 

“You oaf!” the person yelled, kicking a can in his direction and missing wildly. “I didn’t even see you! You didn’t have to rip me out of the sky!”

Hulk still didn’t look at her. He kicked his own trash and huffed. He looked anywhere but the person and finally settled on the Quinjet. He pointed at that triumphantly.

“Ship,” he said. “Fly that ship.”

The person stopped yelling, which made Hulk feel a lot better about himself. She stopped walking towards him, too, and turned towards the Quinjet. She tipped her head curiously, now walking away from the Hulk.

That made him feel better. Bruce felt safer.

“Hulk don’t need plane,” he said. “You take plane.”

“Hulk?” the person repeated. “Is that your name?”

Hulk nodded. “Hulk is Hulk.”

“Brunnhilde,” the person said, tapping her chest with a thumb. She smiled at him. “Brunnhilde is Brunnhilde.”

“Brunnhilde,” Hulk repeated disinterestedly. He scuffed his feet against the ground and tried to think of where he wanted to go. Nothing was familiar and he didn’t know.

“Are you lost?” the person asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

“Hulk from Earth,” Hulk said. “Earth . . . far.” He didn’t know how far. Bruce was clawing at the back on his eyes, desperate to know where they were and wanting to talk about Earth. He probably knew how far earth was. Hulk kept him clamped down.

“You don’t say?” Brunnhilde said, turning her attention back to the Quinjet. She jerked her thumb at it. “You flew this?”

Hulk puffed out his chest. “Hulk fly,” he said. “Hulk fly fast and far.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Brunnhilde said. She looked him up and down. “Strong too. You fight?”

Hulk smiled and thumped his chest. “Fight the best. Hulk fight the best out of anyone.”

Bruce was back in his mind, contradicting him, scared for battles, scared of fighting and getting hurt. Nothing could hurt Hulk though, and Bruce knew that. He should know that. Hulk never lost. Hulk never got hurt. Hulk always won.

“And you like to fight?” Brunnhilde said.

Hulk ginned and thumped his chest. “Hulk fight best because Hulk is strongest.”

“There’s a fighting contest,” Brunnhilde said, and her eyes were sparkling with something that Hulk didn’t know. “You can fight all you want. Does that sound like fun?”

Inside his mind, Bruce was clawing for attention, terrified at the idea of fighting in such a strange world. He didn’t want anything that Hulk wanted. He was scared of this strange person and the way she looked at them and smiled. Hulk wasn’t scared. He kept Bruce inside, where nothing could hurt him. He clamped down tightly on the squirming feeling that was Bruce and wrenched away his control. He could decide when it was safe for Bruce to come back out again.

“Good fun,” he said. “Fighting always good fun.”

Brunnhilde just smiled at him and thumped her own chest in response. “Then we’re going to get along just fine,” she said. “Come with me.”

Bruce was still there, still in the back of Hulk’s mind, crying for attention. He didn’t understand, like always, that Hulk was protection. Hulk knew how to stay safe. He would follow this person because she didn’t try to kill them. Hulk wouldn’t smash her. Yet.

And Bruce would stay inside, out of harm’s way where he belonged. Hulk would keep him there, until things were safer, until Hulk knew where they were and he could be certain that the smaller man would be okay on his own if Hulk retreated back inside.

But that wasn’t now, and Hulk never retreated. He followed Brunnhilde, climbing into the Quinjet and watching her work through getting the thing back in the air and flying again. He slumped back against the wall and let her do whatever she wanted. She would take him to the fighting and Hulk didn’t really care about anything else.

Inside, Bruce was terrified.

Outside, Hulk was a shell of anger, power, and protection.

**Author's Note:**

> hey look, I'm on tumblr @manuscript-or !


End file.
